


How Could I Regret This?

by gays



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24770182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gays/pseuds/gays
Summary: It was never Kiyoomi's intention to be a father so young, much less a single parent, but he can't bring himself to regret his actions, not when he considers his son his biggest blessing. Between playing for the Black Jackals and being a parent, more foreign emotions come to fruition when he and Atsumu become closer.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 105





	How Could I Regret This?

**Author's Note:**

> small trigger warning for minor character death (the real birth mother) so please read with caution!

Kiyoomi had been given permission to take him home just one week after his birth. Having been born almost three weeks earlier than expected, an exceedingly small and fragile baby, he was thankfully without any complications associated with such arrival. His mother, unfortunately, did not share that same luck, and passed soon after she had delivered. Though not together, Kiyoomi held her in high respect, and did mourn adversely for the first few weeks before taking her selfless and loving act as reason to continue.

The conception was, of course, an accident. Unsure of many things in his life at the time, just after his recent promotion to the V. League with the MSBY Black Jackals, Kiyoomi felt as though he was missing out on many aspects of life. His reserved nature and his fear of germs had prevented him from doing many of the things that he was curious about, and the realisation that he wanted to make the most of his younger years had spurred a small change. Still avoiding crowds where he could, he began going out to high-rated bars in his local area. He wasn’t particularly looking for anything and was simply there to experience the atmospheres that he had previously avoided.

One evening, for the first time since his decision, he was spoken to by a female. She showed keen interest, and somehow managed to push all of the correct buttons. Kiyoomi found that the conversation came naturally; she had a particular charm about her that he couldn’t quite ignore. While he was sure that he currently was not looking for a relationship of any kind and had voiced his concern at the subtle advances, they continued conversing. He allowed himself alcohol and, towards the end of the night, had taken her back to his apartment.

Kiyoomi remains thankful that she had taken his number. She had called him a month after their meeting with the news that she was pregnant, and that it had to be his. He had used a condom, though looking back, maybe he shouldn’t have trusted one produced from a purse.

Dread had filled his entire being, and he was left speechless. No words could formulate the response that he was looking for, and he had, against his better judgement, hung up on her. He turned his phone off and had hidden within his apartment for five days before finally plucking the courage to call her back, apologise, and actually consider his reality.

And yet now, in this moment, he held no doubts in his mind that his previous decisions, as poor as they had seemed at the time, were fate. He did not consider the outcome a mistake, despite being completely unplanned. As soon as he had looked into the eyes of the being that he could call his son, any regrets that he once harboured instantly ceased to exist.

The only time that he had fallen from his parental high was with the news of her death. Over the course of the pregnancy they had communicated often, but they were completely limited to the baby and their overall health. Kiyoomi felt little attachment to her but knew that her bond to their son was inconceivable. He considered himself lucky to be by her side on that day. She had made him promise to give their new-born a perfect life, and he had promised to take his word to the grave.

Kiyoomi settled on the name Hiroaki after two weeks, just before he was due to take him home. It was the same day he took to the Black Jackals group chat with the announcement. He had previously kept it to himself, not wanting any of the attention he knew would come to an expecting father but did want to tell them now. It was unrealistic to think that nothing would change in regard to his career, as he was now working with less available hours and more important commitments, but Kiyoomi would try and balance the two to the best of his ability.

Sakusa Kiyoomi:  
Hello. I would like to let you know personally that I won’t be at practise for the next week. I am due to bring my son, Hiroaki, home after two weeks in the hospital. I hope you understand why I didn’t tell you sooner. Most importantly, he is both happy and healthy.

It was the first time he had sent a message in the few months that the group had been active, so no doubt the notification would alert the team quickly. Sure enough, the replies came almost instantly, despite it being late evening.

Meian:  
I knew there would be good reason you’ve been MIA recently. Congratulations! I’m glad that he is healthy. We will see you soon.

Shoyoyo:  
Sakusa-saaann! WOW. I am so so happy! We gotta see him really really soon!!!

Barnes Oriver:  
It’s rough the first few weeks, I’m telling you, but congratulations! I’ll have drinks for you tonight. Glad to hear Hiroaki is healthy!

Bokuto HOOT:  
No way! I would never ever have guessed in a thousand years that youre the first to have a baby. I asked Akaashi about one and he hit me with a HARD book lol. Bring him to practise so we can see how much he looks like you!!! CONGRATS

The replies varied, and he got individual messages from a couple of the other members containing their congratulations and best wishes. He hadn’t felt the need to reply, for he knew that he would have to attend practise for the proposal of some arrangements with both Meian and the coach.

One week in and Kiyoomi couldn’t say he was having a bad time. At two weeks old, Hiroaki seemed just as tiny as the first time he had been held. His eyes were a soft brown, though were still more often closed than open. He was beginning to develop black wisps of hair that already had a defining curl, reminding Kiyoomi so much of himself. He barely cried in the day and seemed more than content with sleeping throughout most of it. More often than not he would have to be woken up for a feed. With every hour that passed, the love that Kiyoomi held for his son grew tenfold.

During the evenings he would sit on the sofa, just after feeding Hiroaki, and delicately rock his son to sleep. He sung to him, though was always careful to be quiet enough as not to awaken him. Kiyoomi presses gentle kisses to his forehead as he holds him, each one a silent promise of a happy upbringing. Kiyoomi rubs his back through the patterned onesie, admiring the boy within his arms and wondering what he had done in his past life to deserve a miracle.

-

“Come on, Aki, it’s time for you to meet the team today. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you away from the mindless idiots. I’m sure they’ll be super careful with someone so precious, hm?”

Hiroaki watches him curiously, and belatedly gurgles as a new nappy is wrapped around him, squirming from where he lays on the clean sheets. Kiyoomi watches as he continues to kick his little legs and presses a small kiss to his tummy once the nappy is secured. “You’ll be the star today,” he continues, dressing the two-week-old in a loose romper. He makes sure that each opening is wide enough for no circulation to be tested before buttoning it up. He admires Hiroaki for a few moments longer before dropping down to press a few more kisses to his chest, and one incredibly careful one to his cheek, unable to help himself. 

Kiyoomi lifts him, ensuring that his head is supported as he does so, and sets him carefully into the baby carrier beside the bed. He already had a fabric carrier wrapped around his own body for when they got out of the car. He then walks kitchen to collect the travel bag, holding the carrier securely. While he was only planning to be gone for no longer than two hours, he didn’t want to risk Hiroaki getting hungry or dirty and being unable to do anything. Once packed and ready to leave, Kiyoomi locks up, trying not to overthink.

Hiroaki falls asleep in his carrier on the ride to the gym, which makes Kiyoomi’s life easier when he parks and transfers him into the sling. He triple-checks over the fabric to make sure that Hiroaki is able to breathe and is comfortable. “C’mon, little angel, let’s go meet a few people.”

His spare hand doesn’t leave his sons back, supporting his small body gently as he walks to the main entrance doors. He hasn’t been present now for three weeks, and he hopes that he won’t regret his decision to bring Hiroaki, especially as he was asleep.

He doesn’t, thankfully, instantly wish he were at home when he steps into the gym. There are few people actually practising, and the rest were standing, seemingly running through a new technique in a circle around the coach. His presence therefore isn’t detected, and it gives himself time to prepare for the attention.

It’s Hinata that sees him first, and with one loud gasp, abandons Atsumu in the middle of a toss to run over to him. “Hi, Omi-san! Woah, he is so tiny!” He exclaims, and immediately Kiyoomi notices the body language. He isn’t too close, nor too loud, and it’s clear that he is containing his excitement by the shine in his eyes.  
Appreciating the respect, Kiyoomi nods gently, “hi. How’s practice going?” He takes to gently rocking Hiroaki, scanning the gym once again. It didn’t seem that much had changed.  
“It’s good. We could really use your spikes though. But we all know that you’re really busy now, so we don’t mind!”

Kiyoomi allows a small smile to pinch at his lips, appreciating the comment. “Thank you,” he says, just as Bokuto jogs over, looking equally as excited as Hinata. There was less effort to contain said excitement, though, and the first thing he does is reach out for Hiroaki.

Sure, the touch was surely only intended for his back, but Kiyoomi steps back anyway. His hand moves to rest defensively over the area that Bokuto had tried to touch. He doesn’t feel better at the look of dismay that crosses Bokuto’s face, but he does seem to recover quickly.  
“He is so cute… Hiroaki, right? He is really small; I’ve never seen a baby that small. I’m going to cry!”

The dramatics would have been ignored if not for the real tears that gather in Bokuto’s eyes. Kiyoomi blinks once, not quite knowing what to say in response. He did understand that feeling; sometimes his love for his son overwhelmed him to the point that he would cry too.  
“Thank you… Um, I’m fine with you holding him, if you wanted to, but please wait until he’s awake. And after you have showered.”

Both Hinata and Bokuto look taken aback, but Kiyoomi doesn’t flinch. He knows that it’s unreasonable to assume he’d be able to keep Hiroaki completely shielded. He trusted both Hinata and Bokuto enough to allow them an opportunity.  
“Really? You don’t have to do that, Omi-san. But we both really would love to,” Hinata smiles, barely looking away from Hiroaki. Bokuto nods his head furiously in agreement, looking as though the moon and stars had perfectly aligned.

Kiyoomi knew little about him and his boyfriend due to his lack of interest in the teams more personal issues, but Bokuto has made it clear that he has wanted a baby for a long while, while his boyfriend didn’t want the same. It was understandable, for neither were at home a lot and Kiyoomi assumes that adoption is a much longer process than an accidental pregnancy.

“You can keep practising for now, I’m sorry I have kept you. We’ll probably be here for a couple of hours.” Kiyoomi says, and both Hinata and Bokuto salute in time. They go back to their previous activities without much hesitation, Hinata demanding for more tosses from Atsumu. Kiyoomi found it somewhat strange that Atsumu hadn’t followed the pair and spoken to him, but he doesn’t dwell on it, knowing that he would only be teased for some reason or another if he had.

Meian is next, and he comes baring a small paper bag. “Hey, how are you doing?” He asks, keeping an appropriate distance.  
Kiyoomi dips his head respectfully, “We’re both okay, thanks. I’m sorry that I’ve missed so much training.” He doesn’t expect for him to be mad but knows that it’s probably nice to do so anyway.  
“Don’t apologise. Your health is more important, and so is little Hiroaki’s happiness. I brought you a gift too. He’s smaller than I thought but I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”  
Kiyoomi smiles again, taking the paper bag, “thank you. He was born three weeks early. Luckily, nothing was wrong, so he’s just a little smaller than expected.”  
Talking about his son to someone else did spark some pride within him, and he found himself almost more inclined to boast. His best achievement was wrapped within his arms, how could he not feel a little pride?  
“That is good. Say, may I ask if this means you have a partner?” 

The question doesn’t shock Kiyoomi, and he was expecting it at some point today. He had purposely not disclosed any information in the group chat, so he knew that their natural curiosity would lead them to ask. He didn’t mind, though a small lump did form in his throat when he opens his mouth to explain. He decides to keep it simple; it was also the first time he had talked about the birth.

“No… Uh, no. I never did. She isn’t here anymore, though,” he explains, subconsciously holding Hiroaki tighter.  
By the tone of his voice, Meian seems to catch on, and he offers a small, sad smile, “I’m really sorry to hear that. I’m confident you’ll give your son an amazing life. Take all of the time you need, and you know that the whole team is here, if you ever need us.” The reassurance is pleasant, and Kiyoomi almost breathes a sigh of relief. He thanks Meian again, before they both walk around the court to see the coach.

Kiyoomi is extra aware where he walks in regard to where the training is taking place. The absolute last thing he wants is for Hiroaki to be faced with one of Bokuto’s extreme spikes. He sets the travel bag, along with Meian’s gift, in the corner of the gym before going and speaking to the coach. He hopes that there is an easy way to resolve the issue of time, but he keeps his hopes low for now. It would be extremely difficult, he knew that, though he could always hope for an easy solution.

-

It took just under an hour to settle on an arrangement that worked for both Kiyoomi and the rest of the team. Considering that he was the only one able to look after Hiroaki, the coach had allowed for a more flexible schedule. He was now allowed days off, but no more than three a week, and was given permission to attend earlier morning or later evening training times, in which the gym would be mostly empty. It would provide Hiroaki a much safer and quieter environment. He did, albeit somewhat unwillingly, agree to finding a babysitter for those days that training as a team was mandatory. It was understandable, but no part of Kiyoomi was happy with leaving his son with a stranger for hours upon hours.

Once the conversation ends, Kiyoomi goes to stand by the far wall as to watch the team practise. He gives both Hinata and Bokuto a small nod when both look his way, and they seem to understand, dashing off to the showers with a short apology to Atsumu, who had been setting to them. Kiyoomi watches his movements slow down, before he drops the ball and allows it to roll away. Weird.

He can’t watch for much longer though because Hiroaki alerts him to his presence, hiccupping himself awake with an upset expression. Kiyoomi allows a smile to stretch across his lips, and he whispers a soft greeting, rubbing his sons back gently. Hiroaki drops the expression after a moment but does begin to squirm around. Kiyoomi assumes that he wants a different position, and with the knowledge that Bokuto and Hinata would be coming back soon, he carefully takes Hiroaki from the sling. It works, and the squirming does cease.

Kiyoomi considers feeding him, as it was nearing the rough hour that he would normally be but decides to hold out at least until more people have had a chance to see him. More often than not Hiroaki would eject half of his milk down Kiyoomi’s shoulder and back, and he thought it would be best if they were at home, just in case it was to happen. 

It doesn’t take long for Bokuto and Hinata to arrive from the changing room in new clothing, satisfying Kiyoomi’s need for cleanliness. Both of them look excited, but he could tell that Bokuto was more nervous. For that reason, he lets Hinata hold him first. Kiyoomi is hyper-aware as he passes Hiroaki over.  
“Support his head, Hinata-kun. Yeah, that’s fine. Ah, don’t rock him too much either, just gently…” He speaks to help him, not to criticise his actions. Hinata did actually seem to know what he was doing, and he looks down at Hiroaki with wide eyes.  
“He really looks like you, Omi-san! He’s so small. His eyes are so cute… Wow…”

Again, pride swells within Kiyoomi’s chest. Hiroaki is calm, showing no signs of any discomfort or unease. Kiyoomi guesses that he’ll be much more social than himself when he’s older.  
“May I go now?” Bokuto asks, fidgeting in place, looking between Kiyoomi and Hiroaki with curious eyes.  
“Calm down a little. He won’t bite,” Kiyoomi says in an effort to somewhat console the man. He doesn’t get a verbal reply, but Bokuto does take a deep breath.

Kiyoomi helps Hinata transfer Hiroaki into Bokuto’s arms, and this time, Kiyoomi doesn’t need to correct anything. Almost as if he were his own child, Bokuto holds Hiroaki perfectly, rocking in the same motions that Kiyoomi often does. The look in his eyes scream nothing but affection.

“I’ll take a picture and send it to Akaashi-san!” Hinata proposes, taking his phone from his pocket without so much as an agreement. Bokuto doesn’t take much notice of the camera, seemingly too entranced by the baby within his arms.  
“Sakusa, he’s so small,” he sighs, his eyebrows pinching into a small frown. Kiyoomi knows the expression well, so he hovers a little closer.  
“He was three weeks early. He was actually due in four days’ time.”  
Bokuto nods slowly, bringing a hand up and gently stroking over Hiroaki’s cheek. His movements are so delicate that Kiyoomi can’t bring himself to be wary. At the small action, Hiroaki scrunches his eyes shut and yawns.

Apparently, the gesture was a little too much for both Kiyoomi and Bokuto. While Kiyoomi’s heart rate increases tenfold, tears spring to Bokuto’s eyes. Kiyoomi doesn’t even realise until he hears a small, wet sob.  
“He’s so cute… Wow, take him before I do.” Bokuto seems serious, and he holds Hiroaki out for Kiyoomi to take, who hesitates for a moment.  
“Overwhelming?” He asks, just to confirm his suspicions, and when he receives a small nod, brings his son back into his arms. “It’s okay… Uh, I know that this situation wasn’t expected but if you ever want to spend time with him, that’s okay… He isn’t a fussy baby, so he wouldn’t be big trouble…”

Bokuto wipes his eyes and tilts his head in confusion, before the words slowly sink in. “Akaashi doesn’t…”  
Kiyoomi nods slowly, “talk to him, maybe. The offer stands if you ever did want to.”  
Smiling weakly, Bokuto takes a deep breath, “yeah. Thank you… He really does look like you. He’s got your nose.”  
Hinata furiously agrees. “Yeah! It’s weird, but also not weird, because he’s you! Just smaller! It’s…” Despite trailing off and leaving his sentence unfinished, Kiyoomi understands what Hinata is trying to say. It was something that even he had a hard time comprehending in the beginning.  
“Thank you,” Kiyoomi says, for lack of a more insightful reply. He wasn’t sure if looking like him was a compliment to Hiroaki or not.

Soon enough, both Hinata and Bokuto leave, followed by a few other members of the team that give Kiyoomi well wishes on their way out. He thanks each one of them, and decides it may be best to also leave, as it was nearing Hiroaki’s feeding time. He starts by wrapping the sling back around him, carefully situating him within the carrier and triple checking the safety before bending to pick up the travel bag and the gift. He looks over to the coach, and is about to say his farewells, when he hears the voice that he had not been expecting to hear.

“Omi… Could’ve told us you had a whole little family behind the scenes!”  
Atsumu’s voice doesn’t sound the same as it normally does, much harsher and less cheerful. It wasn’t the teasing that Kiyoomi had expected to receive before he had arrived. 

He turns to face his teammate, slightly discomforted by the frown that sits upon his face.  
“Sorry?” Kiyoomi questions. The frown doesn’t suit Atsumu, Kiyoomi thinks; he barely sees the expression outside of a tough match.  
“Nah, you heard! Who’s the lucky girl? You’ve been keeping us all in the dark!” The laugh that seems to force its way through Atsumu’s lips is dry. Kiyoomi doesn’t like it.

“Actually, I don’t have one,” he says, looking down at Hiroaki, pressing a gentle kiss to his head for comfort. For himself or for his son, he wasn’t sure. Confrontation wasn’t his stronghold when he wasn’t the one on top.  
“You don’t? What? Where’s Aki’s mother?”  
Kiyoomi notices first the shock in Atsumu’s tone, a complete change to the initial hostile questioning; the difference intrigues Kiyoomi, and he wonders. Then he realises the nickname that Atsumu has already given his son, despite not even having met him yet.  
Kiyoomi is torn between reciprocating the hostility or simply explaining himself. He shouldn’t have to, but Atsumu is his teammate, and as unbearable as he was, Kiyoomi would be lying if he said he wasn’t closer to him than anyone else.

It’s the slight guilt in Atsumu’s eyes at his hesitation to answer that makes his decision.  
“I was never with her. She isn’t here anymore.” He does attempt to keep emotion from his tone, but by the look on Atsumu’s face, he can tell that he didn’t do a great job.  
“Oh, shit. Omi- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”  
Kiyoomi cuts him off before his uncharacteristic apology has any kind of effect on him. “It’s fine.”

Atsumu does bow his head slightly, and when he looks back up, he looks a little more himself. “So, how are you? You don’t look tired or anything, isn’t it really hard?”  
Again, Kiyoomi glances down to his son, “no. He isn’t a fussy baby. He’s really good, sleeps for most of the day… He’s perfect.”  
There’s silence for a few moments, Kiyoomi admiring Hiroaki with a light smile, before Atsumu takes a step closer.  
“Do you think I could… hold him? It’s okay if you don’t want to. I haven’t been sweating a lot, no one really practised much… Or I can shower too?”

Kiyoomi isn’t sure if it’s nervousness that is present in Atsumu’s tone or something else, but nothing within him screams in protest. Atsumu may not be as sweaty as he usually is after training but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sweaty at all. Though his shirt doesn’t cling to his shoulders and his forehead isn’t glistening like all of the other times. If anything, he looks as though he had barely practised at all.

Kiyoomi just nods, carefully unwrapping Hiroaki from the carrier once more. He sees Atsumu’s shocked expression from the corner of his eyes, but doesn’t comment on it, not wanting a reason for any teasing to begin. Atsumu holds his arms out, and Kiyoomi carefully situates the baby within his hold. Something about the sight tugs at Kiyoomi’s heart.

Atsumu is careful, but also more comfortable than Hinata and Bokuto had been. He immediately brings a hand up to smooth down the front of Hiroaki’s romper. “Hey, little man. You really are little, huh? How’s it going? Is daddy making your life good? Bet he is… You’re so cute. Oh, brown eyes too? Aren’t you a lucky one, taking after your daddy?”

Kiyoomi doesn’t interrupt Atsumu’s mumbling, and watches with a slightly tilted head; he couldn’t look away. The gentle, almost pure smile that the other man wore, so different to his usual sly smirk, had Kiyoomi entranced. Perhaps it was seeing him holding his son, the only person in the world that he cared about more than himself, that brought upon the quickening of his heart rate. Perhaps he could blame the words that he spoke so calmly, about him; about him being a good father, about Hiroaki looking like him.

Just as Kiyoomi wants to speak, Hiroaki gives his opinion and lets out a quiet noise, barely distinguishable as a cry. Knowing him well, Kiyoomi clicks his tongue. “He must not like you,” he says, watching for Atsumu’s reaction as Hiroaki begins to fuss a little louder.  
“Hey! That isn’t true…” Atsumu pouts, giving Kiyoomi a look of offence before gently rocking the baby within his arms in an attempt to quell his cries. It works for half a second, and Atsumu barely has the time to look proud before he wails again. “Right?”

Kiyoomi tries not to smile at the question. He takes Hiroaki back into his arms and shushes him softly. “No. It’s near his feeding time, he’s hungry.”  
Atsumu immediately looks relieved, and he flashes a genuine smile, “he’s had an exciting day, meeting me and all. Did you bring food?”  
“I did, but I think we’ll head home now anyway.” He catches the brief look of disappointment on Atsumu’s face.  
“Ah well, it was real good seeing you, Omi-Omi. And little Aki-chan! Come practise soon, okay? Don’t want you getting all unfit on us!” The tone, once again, is light. It settles Kiyoomi, and he nods in response.  
“We’ll come soon. Thank you,” he says, taking a moment to shush Hiroaki again, rubbing his back gently.

Atsumu smiles then pats his shoulder briefly before turning back to the court. Kiyoomi watches him retreat for a few moments longer than necessary. His heart rate doesn’t slow, not after he’s said his final goodbyes to the rest of the team and the coach, not when he’s getting Hiroaki into his car seat, and not once they finally arrive home. 

Hiroaki’s cries cease soon after he’s set in his rocker in the main room, as though coming to understand that being placed there meant that food was on the way. Kiyoomi makes the bottle as fast as he can, and after triple checking the temperature, lifts Hiroaki to his chest and sits down to feed him. Hiroaki latches on and begins to drink almost immediately, an improvement on the last few days where there had been hesitance.

Kiyoomi watches his son with a fond expression and allows himself the time to think. The small outing had been better than what he had expected. Some part of him had prepared himself for a lot of crowding and unnecessary noise, but it seemed his concern was unnecessary. He thinks over his time with Bokuto and hopes that his call post conversation had left him in a more positive mood. He remembers the gift that Meian had given, that now sat on the kitchen counter. Then his thoughts wander to Atsumu.

Kiyoomi wasn’t sure what to think of the conversation, especially the tone that had initially greeted him. Did Atsumu sound short and somewhat hostile, or did he mishear? Still, the tone had flipped so quickly. Atsumu had asked to hold Hiroaki, and Kiyoomi had let him, despite knowing that he hadn’t showered. He wasn’t sure why, because even if he did consider himself to be closer to Atsumu than the rest of the team, it didn’t mean that he was willing to lower any standards. Except he had. Kiyoomi had lowered his standards and didn’t regret it.

A frown pinches at his brows, though he’s pulled from his thinking when Hiroaki hiccups and turns his head away from the bottle. Letting the wonder escape him for now, Kiyoomi places the bottle aside on the low table and stands. He retrieves a burping cloth from the small basket beside the sofa and rearranges Hiroaki onto his shoulder. As he softly pats his sons back, Kiyoomi walks out into the kitchen to retrieve the gift from inside the paper bag.

A wide smile graces his lips as soon as he pulls out the contents, instantly recognising it. It’s a black romper with gold accents, the number fifteen printed on the front beneath the team name. Turning it over, he reads his family name in capital letters, the print mirroring his actual uniform. It’s a gesture that touches him deeply, and he feels a lump form in his throat the longer he stares at the item of clothing. He isn’t sure how long he’s admiring it for, his free hand gently tracing over his name and number. 

Too big to fit Hiroaki for the moment, Kiyoomi keeps the smaller version of his uniform at the top of the clothes drawer, allowing a smile every time he sees it.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a while ago and i'm not sure i like it much reading back but i thought i'd post to see the reception that it receives. i am open to writing more if it's something that people want; there is already a second chapter written so it wouldn't be too far into the future. let me know in the comments how you feel!


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